Captured

by Johansen, Tina

  Heart racing in his throat, Neil pointed to the door on the right, moving to the left-hand door himself. Mike nodded wordlessly and pressed a button on his headset. He put his other ear to the door and listened.

  Neil stood half bent over against the door to 402. He wanted to crouch down fully and listen at the crack of the door, but knew that he needed to stay on guard in case the door opened suddenly. He thought he heard someone talking, but it was so low that he couldn’t even identify the language. He looked to Mike, whose head was practically touching the door of 401. Mike shook his head briskly. Nothing. Had they gotten it wrong?

  He was about to stand up when he heard the scream. He recognised her voice immediately. Frantically, he turned to Mike and jabbed at the air in front of the door.

  “Here,” he mouthed wordlessly.

  Mike nodded curtly. “401 Paul. In front. Last one on your left.” he moved across to Neil. “Give it a second,” he whispered.

  Moments later, they heard the sound of crashing glass. Neil was still drawing his gun as Mike gestured for him to move to one side. Mike stood back and brought one of his brown leather brogues up, smashing it into the door near the handle. The wood splintered but didn’t give way.

  “Fuck!”

  They heard more screams and shouts from inside. Neil shifted his gun to his left hand and knelt down, barging into the stricken door. Mike jumped aside for the impact and quickly leapt inside once the door gave way in order to cover Neil, who had faltered and was balancing on one shoulder, looking into the room.

  Chapter 27

  Time slowed to a crawl as they absorbed the scene. Daniel was standing directly opposite the door, with a gun trained at Neil, who had his aimed at Daniel’s head despite his earlier loss of balance.

  Neil moved to stand, not taking his eyes off Daniel. He had glanced around quickly when the door opened – enough time to see that there were three others in the room: Simon, Grace and Kirsty.

  “Stay down,” Daniel warned, pointing his weapon at Grace and moving across the room towards them. “Guns down or I’ll kill her. You wouldn’t like that, would you Neil?” he smiled. “Drop them on the ground and slide them over to me.”

  Neil looked at him, defiant, but caught Mike’s expression as he did so. He let go of his gun and pushed it to Simon. Mike pointed his away, and slowly knelt to the ground and did the same.

  Daniel picked up the weapons and backed towards the kitchen, opening the oven and throwing them inside. “Good.” He stood behind Grace, jamming the barrel of his gun into the back of her head. “Come and joined the party.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Neil muttered to Mike as they walked over.

  “Where are the others?” Daniel asked them, as he beckoned Simon closer with his hand.

  Neil ignored him. “What’s going on Simon? You were pretty quick to leave.”

  “Neil, I didn’t... I had no choice.”

  Daniel sniggered. “Poor Simon. Always the victim. Back to where we left off I think Simon?” he skipped back over to Kirsty.

  “Neil, what’s going on?” Grace spoke for the first time.

  Neil felt a stab of pity and regret. “I don’t know. I’ve heard conflicting reports,” he looked at Daniel. “Perhaps you’d care to fill us in?”

  Daniel smiled. “I think you’re all forgetting. I’m the one with the gun!”

  “He’s right, Neil,” Simon offered.

  Daniel looked at him evenly. “A bit hypocritical Simon, no? I bet he was very reluctant to go the police, am I right? Did you ask him why?”

  Neil sighed, pleased to have gotten some response. “No, I didn’t bother. He led us to you, didn’t he?”

  “Good at getting away with things, our Simon. Now, back to the business at hand. Simon?”

  “Wait,” Grace shouted, desperately. “What do you mean, Simon’s always getting away with things?”

  Daniel sneered at her. “Are you trying to hold things up? I’d want to get it over with if I were you.”

  “If you don’t tell anyone what he’s done, then of course he’ll get away with it.”

  Neil inched towards Grace, mindful that the only gun in the room was now in Daniel’s possession. “She’s right Daniel. I knew something was off with him. He was bursting to tell me all about you.”

  “Oh he was, was he? Or are you trying to trick me into talking?” he moved the gun, so his arm was now curved up under Kirsty’s throat.

  “Fucking hell,” Grace muttered. “No surprise that people don’t believe you. Simon’s more believable than you. It wouldn’t be hard: you’re clearly psychotic. I knew Kirsty had bad taste, but you’re on another level. She must’ve been blind.”

  Daniel’s eyes narrowed in shock. He stood up and pushed away from Kirsty’s chair, the force causing the base to tether sideways and almost tip over. He marched to Grace’s side and pushed the gun into the centre of her forehead, pushing her head back until there was no more give in her neck.

  “I’m a psycho? Me? You’re in cahoots with this guy,” he turned slightly and gestured at Simon, “and you’re calling me a psycho? He’s–”

  He froze as he turned back to face Grace. As he heard the pffft, Neil leapt the remaining distance between him and Grace and threw her out of the way as Daniel toppled backwards, and hit the ground. His head cracked against the floor, his wig already a tangled mess of black blood.

  Paul stood beside the door, staring at Daniel. “He dead? Can someone check his pulse?”

  Mike bent down and was silent for a moment. “Faint, but he’s still got a pulse.”

  Neil and the others hurried to untie Grace and Kirsty. “What took you so long?” Mike asked.

  Paul shrugged. “The doors to the stairs are all locked,” he replied. “I had to go all the way back to the foyer and take the elevator. You should have checked before telling me to take the stairs.”

  “Come on fellas, it doesn’t matter now, we’re just lucky he didn’t hear the lift,” Neil said, clamping a soaked kitchen towel tightly to Grace’s hand. She was sitting on the floor beside him looking faint. “Great distraction, by the way.”

  She smiled weakly.

  Simon tsked. “He’s going to ruin me now.”

  They all looked at him; he hadn’t spoken since Paul’s arrival.

  “How’s that Simon?” Neil asked impatiently.

  “He just... God I shouldn’t have come here.”

  No one responded.

  “Oh do something useful and find Grace’s finger. It’s probably still wherever you threw it,” Kirsty hissed, disdainfully.

  “Kirsty I–”

  There was a faint beep, like the alarm of an old digital watch.

  “Shhh,” Neil held a hand up. “Was that the lift?”

  “No, it was too quiet. And it was closer,” Mike shrugged.

  Paul rushed forward and patted Daniel down, before turning him around and doing the same on his other side. His hands stopped, and he pulled Daniel’s t-shirt up sharply. He was wearing a rubber heart rate monitor, from which a solitary white wire trailed down his back to a medium brown lump with a strange oily sheen.

  “What is it?” Kirsty asked, peering over his shoulder.

  Paul was lifting her up, and running towards the door, with Neil and Grace close behind them. Mike tried to drag Simon to his feet, but he refused to move.

  “The stairs are locked,” Paul yelled back.

  “Shoot the lock,” Neil shouted.

  “It’s a fucking pistol,” Paul replied, dropping Kirsty and stepping back to kick the door.

  It was stronger than the door to Daniel’s apartment, and didn’t budge. Undeterred, Paul darted back and launched himself at it from a greater distance. This time, the door splintered.

  Neil stood anxiously by his side. “How long do we have?”

  “Not long,” Paul muttered. “Where’s Mike?”

  Neil looked around and realised that his friend wasn’t there. He raced back to
the apartment. Inside, Mike was trying to drag Simon out. Simon was deadweight: refusing to move.

  “Mike come on, he doesn’t want to get out. Don’t waste your time, get out here.”

  “It’s open,” Paul called from outside.

  “Come on,” Neil ran to Mike’s side and pulled him by the arm, out of the apartment, through the shattered door to the stairs and down. He could hear the others’ voices echoing up from below.

  “Move it,” Paul yelled, hearing them. “We need to get as far away as possible.”

  They raced down the stairs, and were halfway down the last flight when they heard a muffled crack.

  Kirsty looked back, relieved. “That wasn’t so bad.”

  “Go,” Paul urged, pushing her out the door at the bottom of the stairs. Neil and Mike had caught up: Paul was delayed carrying Grace, who was growing whiter and whiter by the minute.

  They reached the lobby, which was empty, and burst through the door, running back down the street they had entered from earlier. The second blast was deafening – the dark street lit up in an unnatural amber hue. They lay huddled in a pile on the ground as shards of glass and chunks of masonry showered them.

  Chapter 28

  “What the hell was that all about?” Grace asked. She was sitting in the back of an ambulance while an emergency worker tended to her hand.

  Neil shrugged, leaning against the door. “A lot of history between those two, I can only guess.”

  “Now we’ll never know,” Kirsty was sitting on a little fold-out chair the ambulance worker had provided, swigging from a bottle of whisky Paul had procured from a little store around the corner.

  “Shouldn’t you wait until they’ve examined you?” Neil asked, pointing at the bottle.

  “Probably. But I needed something. I know I need a shower. But I want to hear everything you know. First Simon and now Daniel? What on earth happened? Only Grant was half normal and he’s...” she trailed off.

  Mike had joined them. “We’re free to leave for the time being, the police have agreed to come to the apartment and interview you guys there,” he looked at Kirsty. “We’ll go back there when you’ve been given the all clear.”

  Two days later, Neil collected Grace and Kirsty from the hospital and brought them to the apartment. As they walked inside, Kirsty put her hand on Neil’s arm. “Out with it.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “She needs to know, Neil,” Grace said, walking behind them. Her arm was in a cast; her swollen hand a mound of bandages.

  “Okay,” he agreed, closing the door, and starting at the beginning.

  Kirsty was silent at first, her expression changing from time to time. She gasped when Neil repeated the story that Simon had told him, before frowning. “So it was Daniel? Why didn’t Simon say something?”

  Grace reached over and held her hand. “We might never know.”

  “I’ve got someone digging into the case files. It’s as close as you’re going to get, but maybe there’ll be some truth in them,” Neil said, before continuing.

  “What did Daniel have on him?” Kirsty interrupted again.

  “He wouldn’t tell me.”

  She sighed and sat back against the couch, and listened silently until he mentioned the body in the fridge. She inhaled sharply.

  “Simon said it wasn’t him. But now that I’ve had a chance to look at some of your pictures...”

  Grace launched herself out of the armchair and over to Kirsty who collapsed into her arms.

  “I don’t understand. Why did he come after us in the first place?”

  The police officer from the tourist police who had accompanied the other officers to the hospital had been kind, and had offered some answers: the apartment had been rigged with gelignite. Two male bodies had been found inside, burnt beyond recognition. One of them had appeared to be the source of the explosion, which they knew.

  What he hadn’t been able to provide, and what Kirsty most wanted to know, was Daniel’s motive. She and Grace had discussed it for hours in the hospital, but had gone around in circles.

  “So we just go back to life as normal?” she asked.

  Grace shrugged and looked at Neil.

  Neil’s phone rang; he stood up and went to one of the bedrooms to answer it.

  “I can’t believe Grant is gone,” Kirsty’s face fell, and she began to sob.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “There’s nothing you can say. I’m glad we’re safe, but it feels so surreal...” she trailed off, glancing out the window, before turning away quickly. “Everything about this city reminds me of Daniel.” She lay down and leaned her head on the arm rest.

  Grace stroked her hair as she lay there, and stood up once she had fallen asleep. Padding to one of the bedrooms, she tapped at the door softly. She could hear Neil’s voice from inside. He opened the door. She walked over and sat on the bed. Pressing the end call button, he came and sat down beside her.

  “That was Mike. The police still have some questions.”

  “Great.”

  His pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry Grace,” he said finally. He reached down tentatively and gripped her hand. “I was too simplistic about things.”

  She leaned her head on his shoulder and reached over with her right hand to squeeze his arm. “You were right, I was working too much.”

  He bent his head and smelled her hair. “I was so worried when I didn’t hear back from you. I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d got here too late...”

  She kissed his shoulder, shushing him. “It’s not your fault.”

  “Have you finished packing?” Grace stood at the door to Kirsty’s room.

  Kirsty got out of bed and came to the door. “I never unpacked to start with.”

  “You should hear this.”

  Kirsty followed her to the living room, where Neil sat. “What’s happened?”

  Neil hesitated. “Look, you probably want to read it yourself,” he said, passing her the laptop. “It was in all of the major newspapers in the UK this morning. It seems Daniel had instructed his lawyer to contact the newspapers in the event of his death.”

  They all watched her closely as she read. Finally, she leaned forward and clumsily placed the laptop on the table before slumping back into her chair, eyes closed.

  “I’m sorry Kirsty, but you were going to see it at some stage,” Grace consoled.

  “Simon killed his ex-girlfriend while Daniel recorded the whole thing,” Kirsty stammered. “That was his hold over Simon? They’re both insane?” She looked from Grace to Neil and back several times. Neither spoke.

  The silence was broken by Neil’s ringtone.

  “What is it?” Grace whispered when he’d hung up.

  Neil exhaled sharply. “Mike just heard from the police. We’re free to leave the country.”

  “Let’s get the hell out of here then,” Kirsty sighed, standing up. “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to a boring, predictable life.”